A Confession (& Hello to EAR)

Consider this my plea.

It is not a very long bicycle ride from Dolores Park to Lyon & Fell. It is, however, uphill.
So we rode, Trevor & Clint & I, churning pedals & grinding gears.
"Don't get caught in the tracks again!" He says as we cross over the railroad.

Trevor & I, side by side, climbing up Church Street. & on Church, a pigeon (either brave or unintelligent) saw his life flash before his beady eyes.
In my defense, Trevor swerved to hit him. & was unsuccessful. He only directed the poor bird into my tire's trajectory.

I would love to say, "It all happened so fast," but this would be untruthful. Still climbing uphill, I also twisted the bike, with my aim to avoid the hapless pigeon. Rubber. Feathers. Vertebrae. Asphalt.

In one unfortunate spin of a tire, his day was over. On pigeonesque swivels, we turned our heads back to survey the street. A little flapping. Less flapping. & then none.

So I may not be a popular man in this liberal City, where animals outnumber children on most days. But let the records show that this vehicular slaughter was anything but voluntary.